Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(56)

“We have to get to Warrenton. Time’s wasting.”

He grunted. So they were back on relatively safe footing again. She breathed in a sigh of relief.

“How are we getting there?” he asked.

She smiled then, and his gaze narrowed. Under his stare, she knew what it was to feel hunted. She pointed in the direction of the lone hanger.

He shook his head, but before he could voice a negative response, she picked up her duffel and set off in the direction of the plane.

“Seriously, I haven’t flown in years,” he called out.

She stopped. “Since you lost your leg?”

Silence met her question. Then a harsh breath followed by, “Yeah.”

Again, the need to comfort him curled through her, warming her heart. But he wouldn’t appreciate it, and they didn’t have time for it anyway. So Vivi hardened her heart, made it cold. He was rated to fly them and had flown for pleasure long before the loss of his leg. This was about getting him cleared. Whatever it was about for him, he had to get over it. Quickly.

“Well, Sergeant First Class Rook Granger, it’s time you got reacquainted. Because we’ve got to get to Oregon. I can do a whole helluva lot of things, but flying a plane ain’t one of them.” She took off again, hoping he’d follow.





CHAPTER 4


Rook breathed in the bitterly cold air of Warrenton, Oregon, and felt the vicious talons of fear release their hold. She’d made his ass fly, and the entire time his palms had sweat and his neck had prickled. He’d wondered if they were being tracked. If they’d be blown out of the sky. If he’d kill them with his lack of experience. So many things had run through his mind, but right now, in this place of cold Pacific winds and snow, he felt safe.

“Here,” Olivia said, handing him a long plastic case.

He turned to her and took it. She smiled shyly, and he felt something move in his chest. Another release but this one caused a different sort of alarm to replace the fear of death. He was attracted to Michael’s sister. And it had nothing to do with the fact that it’d been well over a year since he?d had a woman.

If only it were. Then he’d be able to live with what he knew was going to happen between them. Because as sure as hell was hot, he was going to have the woman with the chocolate-brown eyes, soft lips, and enough bravery for an entire company of soldiers.

“What is this?” He took it from her and snapped open the closures.

What met his gaze had him going into panic mode. She’d brought him a brand-new carbon fiber–reinforced polymer blade prosthetic. The lightweight material was multifunctional and would allow him an ease of movement the one he normally wore didn’t. It even had traction plates on the bottom of the blade. He hadn’t had a new prosthetic in over five years. Such a simple thing and yet it stole a heart he didn’t think even beat anymore.

Rook had gone through hell getting back to active status. After an RPG had taken his leg in Fallujah, he’d suffered depression. Losing his leg hadn’t been the half of it. He’d been a soldier his entire adult life. It defined him as nothing else. The loss of his active status, not being able to be out there with his teammates, had destroyed him.

So he’d worked at making himself invaluable. He’d been one of the first men ever reinstated to active duty with a prosthetic. Sure, it had been active duty as a Delta Force liaison, but he’d been back in. He’d regained who he was. Then he’d lost it again when he lost his unit in Mogadishu. And here was this woman, this crazy, gorgeous as all hell woman, trying to give it back to him?

He glanced up at her, noticing how the low lights of the plane highlighted the cream of her skin. “You’re mine.”

The words were pulled from him. It was insanity. He couldn’t have her. More than likely, he’d die on whatever this mission of hers was. But if he managed to keep her alive, he wouldn’t shackle her to him. He had nothing to offer but duty. Yet those words solidified his objective. And when Rook focused on something hard enough, completely enough, it became his.

“Nope. I’m mine, but you’re welcome for the new blade,” she said saucily. “You might want to go ahead and change. We’ve got a fifteen-minute drive from here, and then we’ll hike in.”

He set aside his lust. Business it would be then. “Soon is now.”

Her brows lowered, and it was the cutest f*cking thing he’d ever seen. “Huh?”

“I need those answers,” he said.

“Change first, and then we’ll talk,” she urged.

He bit off his reply and sat down to change his leg. Her delays had his instincts roaring at him, but he’d walked out of Leavenworth with her. He had to see this through to the end. If it meant his life, so be it. Plus, she’d given him the single word that above all others led him to believe her motives, while crazy, were altruistic. Endgame. The secretive spec-ops entity that had been courting Rook for well over a year now. Good guys dressed in shadows and willing to do whatever was necessary to win any and all wars in the name of freedom.

“The car is secured,” she said as she stuck her head back in the plane.

He followed her out, testing the movement of the new prosthetic. These limbs had to be fitted perfectly. How she’d managed to get one made to his specifications he had no idea. He needed to thank her, but the cold wind took his words and flung them to the sea writhing yards beyond the airfield where they’d landed.